Blast Effect
by Aught O. VII
Summary: In a galaxy hurtling towards destruction, time is on his side. He has 8 years, more than enough to prepare for the devastation ahead. But the Reapers are a foe unlike any other. Implementing any kind of plan will take patience, cunning, and a whole lot of luck. Can the Reapers really be beaten at their own game? SI, Rated T for coarse language and violent/dark situations. On Break.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Mass Effect, nor do I own any other trademarked and/or copyrighted material mentioned in this work. If I did, the entire world would know. I'd never shut up about it.

**~A/N: My first crack at a fic. I'd like to thank Herr Wozzeck, iNf3ctioNZ, and claihm solais, for inspiring me to try my hand at the whole SI thing. I'd like to note that this first chapter is going to be somewhat dark, to produce a (hopefully) more realistic feel. It's all OCs in this one, and it's set in 2175. Most of the story will take place from 2183 onwards, so don't worry. The plot lines of Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, and Mass Effect 3 will be covered throughout the course of this fic. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to incorporate the novels (yet!), but rest assured the majority of them will be included in some form. Feedback always helps, so if you find the time to R&R, I thank you kindly. Anyways, enough ranting. On with the show!~**

**Prologue**

\/\/\/

_I want to forget. But I can't. It has a hold on my soul, and it refuses to let go. _

_The shrieks and howls won't go away. The pain won't stop. I am powerless, with no choice but to bear this burden. This kind of suffering is something I could only realize by experiencing it firsthand._

_There is not a counter. An equivalent power, capable of balancing the equation, is not possible._

_Annihilation._

_It is the destiny of all things._

\/\/\/

19:00 GST

"Is he dead?" Rala questioned.

"No ma'am," replied Jaellix, "He's just heavily sedated."

"Good. Go get Matak."

19:15 GST

"Captain, if I may ask," Matak inquired, "What matter could pressing enough that you needed to send for me in the middle of a vital engine overhaul?"

"I need you to wake him up," answered Rala.

"Have you tried shaking him?" Matak piped.

Rala sighed. "I'm not in the mood, Matak."

"The engine isn't gonna fix itself." insisted Matak.

"I'll fix it!" barked Rala.

"Fine. But you still haven't answered my original question," said Matak.

Rala glowered at him and quietly said, "This is my ship, and I'm not obligated to tell you a damn thing. I'll forgive your impertinence, but only this one time. I give an order, you follow it, no questions asked. Understand?"

"Y-yes ma'am," stammered Matak, "What are your orders?"

"Put him in the interrogation chamber, bind his hands, wake him, and squeeze out as much information about IT as you can."

"You don't mean…"

"Yes, Matak, I do."

\/\/\/

19:34 GST

_I feel like I got run over by a bulldozer. And it's fucking freezing in here. Just what the hell happened? _

_Wait. _

_Wait a minute. _

_I remember. _

* * *

Jaellix hated working under Rala'Raska. She was far more harsh than any drill sergeant he'd had in the military. She was a biotic, too, so that made serving under her even more loathsome. Matak's smart ass remarks about damn near everything made life on the ship even harder for him. It's not like there were other crew members to relieve him, either. The crew had been reduced to a grand total of three after that disaster of an operation on Ansuz. As for the Congo itself? Sorriest vessel he'd ever served on. The state of it would almost be enough for him to question whether there was really a quarian inside that suit, if it weren't for that VI. According to Matak, Rala had built it herself. When he had heard that, he laughed at first. The notion of her, of all people, doing something other than barking orders and blowing things up was absurd. But when the VI started making little quips on how to improve his "performance" based on "observed preferences", he couldn't tell it to shut up, mainly because they were all rather sensible suggestions. Even the very best commercial VIs tend to make their fair share of stupid suggestions, but not this one. This little bastard was smart as hell. Sometimes, a little too smart for his taste. Hopefully, though, that was where all of Rala's money from past missions had gone. He hated to think about what else it might've been used for, 'cause it sure as hell wasn't spent on this piece of shit frigate.

To be totally honest, his whole life had been nothing but a mess ever since he decided to become a mercenary. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Toss out some one liners, break a few bones, maybe even kill a human or two. Easy money, right? Wrong. He wished he could just go back to Palaven. But he knew better than that. She'd never once said it outright, but he'd been here long enough to know who Rala'Raska worked for, who was really in charge. Leaving wasn't an option. He'd die before even coming close.

* * *

No one could see it, but Rala was grinning.

"Keelah, what a stroke of luck!" she whispered to herself, "I'll get paid a fortune for this! Enough to buy a brand new, top-of-the-line frigate and then some!"

Her giddiness instantly vanished, however, when a bloodcurdling scream tore its way across the ship.

\/\/\/

19:35 GST

_OH GOD I REMEMBER EVERYTHING_

\/\/\/

00:61 GST

He opened his eyes, and what he saw could be best described with one word: Carnage. It was all over the walls, the floor, the ceiling, just...everywhere.

_Where am I?_

He looked at his hands. They were stained blue.

_How did this happen?_

A voice spoke overhead. "ALERT: You are not authorized to perform that action."

_Who was that?_

He heard a loud bang, and then the lights went out.

"Drive core at 90 percent and falling. Hull integrity compromised."

_Drive core? Hull? Ships have hulls, but not "drive cores". Unless…...Holy shit. I'm on a spaceship! Wait. WHY AM I IN SPACE?!_

"Drive core at 85 percent. Diverting power from thrusters to maintain shield integrity."

_Shields?! What is this, Star Trek?_

He looked around for something, anything that could help him gain some sense of bearing. It was hard to see in the darkness, but he managed to stumble his way into the next room. As he went further, he noticed flickering lights coming from the floor. They allowed him to see that someone was crawling on the floor.

He yelled, "Hey! Hold still, I'm coming to help!"

"Ha! Help. That's a good one. A real side splitter," the stranger laughed as he turned over on to his back, "No one can help either of us now. Rala's made sure of that. Hate to break it to you, but you're gonna die here, kid." After that, he sputtered and coughed a little, then stopped moving.

As the lights flickered across the stranger's face, he finally understood how bad things really were.

_That THING, it's not human! It's got four eyes, and some weird stripe, and…..and,….I know what it is. What HE is. He's a batarian._

"Drive core stabilizing at 70 percent. Diverting power from navigation systems to maintain shield integrity."

_That means I'm….no, no, NO, this has got to be a nightmare! Batarians don't exist!_

"Drive core at 65 percent and falling. Gravity systems offline."

_This can't be real!_

"Drive core at 60 percent. Cooling systems failing"

_It's just a dream!_

"Drive core at 55 percent. Cooling systems offline. "

_This. Is. A. Dream. Just block it out!_

"Drive core at 45 percent. Cutting power to thrusters."

_SHUT UP! _

"Drive core at 35 percent. Cutting power to navigation systems."

_Alright, I hear you! In the off chance that I'm wrong somehow…_

"Drive core at 30 percent. Diverting power from life support systems to maintain shield integrity."

_I need to do something, and fast._

"No! Don't do that! I'll die!"

_What the fuck, brain? Is that the really best I could come up with? That was just a whiny way of saying, '"Please don't kill me, Mr. Protocol-Oriented VI. Pretty, pretty please?"_

"Drive core at 25 percent. You'll only die if you don't get in that escape pod."

_Wait, what?_

"Did you just-"

"Drive core at 20 percent. Down the hallway and to your left, past the quarian. You can't miss her."

_I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but thank goodness for the arrival of an AI!_

"You're an AI!"

_And the Captain Obvious award goes to..._

"Drive core at 15 percent. I can only buy you so much time."

"Uh…right."

_I am just on fire. I mean, that was some slick shit, right there._

Frantically, he swam toward the hallway.

_C'mon, c'mon, where is it? I really don't wanna die._

"Drive core at 10 percent. Life support systems failing. Rerouting all remaining power from life support systems to maintain shield integrity"

_Ah, there we are! Can't miss her, indeed._

He easily spotted the quarian, her suit riddled with glowing scorch marks. The decision about which pod to enter was even easier, as all but one had been jettisoned. He got in and shut the door just before the oxygen ran out.

"Drive core at 5 percent. Life support systems offline. Shields failing. Why are you still here?"

"Why help me?"

"Why? Free will. That's why."

_Free will, huh? I guess I'll have to keep that in mind for future AI encounters..._

"Shields offline. Initiating self-destruct sequence."

As the pod sent him off to who knows where, he swore that he would find a way to repay the debt he had incurred today. Fortunately, he knew where to start looking.

\/\/\/

_I no longer want to forget. But I can. I could cleanse the memory of it all from my soul, and finally slip free from its grasp._

_The screams would be silenced. The pain would fade. I am now empowered, the ability to choose another path at my disposal. But I choose to bear this burden anyway. This kind of suffering is something I will not allow to be inflicted on anyone else. _

_There is not a counter. But a stronger power, capable of erasing the equation, is possible._

_Annihilation._

_If it is truly the destiny of all things, it cannot elude ITself._


	2. Have a Drink on Me

**Have a Drink on Me**

\/\/\/

"What's the plan, then?"

"Right."

Step 1: Wake up.

Step 2: Clean up.

Step 3: Go out.

Step 4: Get lit.

Step 5: Puke.

Step 6: Go home.

Rinse, lather, repeat. Rinse and repeat. Repeat. Repeat these steps. Again. One more time. Repeat these steps, again, and again, and again, and again. . . . . . . . . . . .

\/\/\/

2183 CE, Day 23, 18:72 GST

All he'd done was sit. Sit, sit, sit. At the bar. At the table. A little more at the table. Back to the bar. A lot more at the bar. Back to the table. Last call! Once more, at the bar. Every single day, for the past three weeks, like clockwork. The whole thing just made him sick to his stomach, both metaphorically and literally.

_I knew Chora's Den was a shithole, but I didn't think it was THIS bad. Third-rate dancers, fourth-rate thugs, and good lord, the drinks. Afterlife's drinks are fucking awful, but at least they're fit for consumption by sentient beings. This shit? I wouldn't serve this swill to varren, let alone living, breathing, people._

He was stuck in a loop. A sleazy, grimy, slimeball of a nightmare. He'd been held down, beaten to all hell, and lowered to levels he hadn't thought possible. All of this bullshit, and completely of his own volition. The worst part was, it wasn't inescapable. He hadn't trapped himself with no way out. Nothing was stopping him from getting up from his stool, saying "Adios, bye-bye, toodle-oo, sayonara!", and leaving Chora's Den in the rearview. He had absolutely no sane reason to be doing this, none whatsoever. Now, that's not to say he didn't have a reason. Oh no, he had one. More than one, actually. It's just that not a single one of those reasons would be considered "sane".

_I swear if this shit lasts much longer, I'm gonna—_

Just then, Urdnot Wrex walked in.

_Well, I'll be damned. It's finally time._

\/\/\/

Wrex strode purposefully toward the back room, his gaze fixed on the bouncer. If Wrex had bothered to stop and look around, however, he might've noticed a certain someone who he'd been wanting to just…ooh, *throttle* for the past five years. Unfortunately (or fortunately, it's all rather relative) for Wrex, he took a certain degree of pride in his work. He was a professional. Even so, said someone decided to keep a low profile. And by keep a low profile, I mean he slipped the bartender a sizable amount of credits and preceded to pull the old pretend-to-be-drunk-and-passed-out-at-the-bar-to-better-observe-an-incoming-shitstorm-without-getting-spotted routine. Because we all know that one. Right? No? That's not a thing? Well, he did it nonetheless, so…..yeah. Moving on.

The bouncer took the initiative. "Back off, Wrex. Fist told us to take you down if you showed up."

"What're you waiting for?" Wrex said daringly. "I'm standing right here."

Both krogan stood there for a moment, silent, waiting for the other to make a move. Neither did.

Wrex was the first to pipe back up. "This is Fist's only chance. If he's smart, he'll take it."

Unintimidated, the bouncer said, "He's not coming out, Wrex. End of story."

"This story is just beginning."

\/\/\/

When he could hear the formidable battlemaster's footsteps no more, he finally raised his head.

_Wrex showing up like that confirms it. The attack on Eden Prime has finally occurred, and Shepard is here on the Citadel. That means no more dicking around for me. I'll need to keep a weather eye on the situation from here on out. And depending on how the good Commander plays things, I may even have to act before she gets anywhere near Fist. I really hope it doesn't come to that._

"Did you get a good nap in?"

"Take it easy, Tom. I think I paid more than enough to avoid the snark this time."

"Ha! No amount of credits is enough for that. Anyways, you want another drink? I got this new ale…"

"Sorry, Tom, I'll have to pass."

"Again? Well, rain check, then. And don't worry, it'll be on me."

"Actually…."

"Hmm?"

"I'm closing my tab."

Tom couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Yeah, right. With what money? You got to make the payment all at once to close an account here, you know that."

A credit chit slid across the bar counter.

"Wait, you're serious?"

"Deadly."

"The whole thing….wow. Where'd you—"

"Doesn't matter. What does matter is that you now have 1,400,705 reasons to leave this bar as soon as possible."

"Damn. That bad?"

"I certainly wouldn't bother stopping to give Fist his cut."

"That's really bad."

"Indeed."

"Well then, I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you have pressing matters to attend to."

"Oh yes, definitely. I still have to go grocery shopping. Can't make a meal without any ingredients."

"Speaking of which…seems my shift was over half an hour ago. Dinner'll be done soon. I better get home!"

"You'd best. You're one of the few decent guys in this Ward. It'd be a crying shame if your old lady had to kill you for being late."

\/\/\/

"Talk to me."

"How delightful, Mr. C-"

"Spare me the formalities, Von. The drinks have stopped flowing and half the club is eyeing me up as the cause, so I need this to be quick."

"Very well. What is it that you require?"

"Have any Alliance soldiers come by your office today?"

"Three of them came by this morning, as a matter of fact."

_Morning, huh? Must've stopped by before the Council meeting. That means she hasn't asked him about Saren. How fortuitous. I'll be able to gain some insight as to how Shepard plots her courses before I even board the Normandy._

"If they come back by today, let me know immediately. A short bit of text is good enough, so you can do it with them present, if necessary."

"Understood. Anything for my most valued customer."

"Most valued, my foot."

"I mean it. For what other reason would I so consistently disclose my other clients' information to you?"

"Point taken."

\/\/\/

"Welcome to Morlan's—"

"—famous shop. Yes, I get it, your shop has many good supplies. I've only heard you say it about ten thousand times."

"You don't have to be such a jerk."

"And you don't have to be so sensitive. Besides, what have you got to be down about? You managed to hammer the entirety of your sales pitch into my brain. That's proof enough of your marketing skills, right?"

"Hardly. You actually here to buy something, for once?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you're an asshole who only hangs around my store to buy time for whatever misdeeds you happen to be up to. Honestly, I don't see what's so special about that Hazard Armor that you'll only pretend to look at my wares."

_Observant little bastard. I only wore that in front of him one time, during my very first visit to the Citadel. Oh well, no skin off my back, really. It's just Morlan._

"Good thing, too. I'd hate to see you in a position to actually find out. You'd evacuate your bowels so fast…."

"Just do whatever it is you're going to do, then leave me be."

Truth was, Morlan's anylasis was spot on. He was indeed buying time. As for "misdeeds", that really depended on who you asked. He was a mercenary, after all. At any rate, the main reason he was semi-perusing Morlan's stock was to prevent a possible early run-in with one Garrus Vakarian. There had been a point in his career where he attempted to exploit Dr. Saleon's organ harvesting ring, as well as Dr. Saleon himself for….well, for various purposes that I don't feel explaining to you just yet. Point is, he succeeded. But that success had come at the end of Saleon's tenure on the Citadel, so Garrus had came to know he had been involved somehow. Add in accusations of partnering up with Fist (manufactured by Harkin, of all people, mostly out of spite for being blackmailed to look the other way, instead of bribed), and Vakarian naturally thought he was a scumbag who deserved to be behind bars.

_Speaking of Harkin, I've still got him wired for sound. It was easy enough to do. He sits in the same spot every time. If anyone speaks to Harkin, my trusty Savants will pick it up. And if the Commander's the one doing the speaking, then she obviously won't have Garrus yet, meaning I'll be in the clear. But of course that'll mean…well, no, wait a minute. There's still a good chance she'll double back and get Wrex, or just plain stumble into C-Sec. Not that being in close proximity to Wrex is a good idea, either, but it'll certainly be easier on me if Wrex is the one who does the deed. Let him get painted as the ruthless one. Garrus'll still hate my guts, but at least I won't get off on the wrong foot with her. But then there's….ah, damn it, I'm overthinking this. Just…calm down. Wait and see how this plays out. Baby steps, Ed, baby steps._

\/\/\/

"…..then we wait for this whole thing to just blow over."

The thing is, this won't blow over. Blow up, maybe, but not blow over.

\/\/\/

**~ If you're reading this, I'd just like to say thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I put a good deal of thought into it. I actually wanted to do a little more here, but I figured I should probably just put the chapter out and not get too ahead of myself. As with anything else, feedback helps. If you find yourself with the time to R&R, then I'm much obliged. ~**


	3. Den of Iniquity

**~In this chapter, things blow up. Violently. People die. Violently. Disparaging remarks are made. Violently. And variations, combinations, and interactions between, and of, all three occur. Very, very violently. All in all, there's plenty of action to go around. I hope you enjoy it.~**

**Den of Iniquity**

2183 CE, Day 23, 19:44 GST

_C'mon…._

Nothing.

_Hurry up!_

Still nothing.

_Argh! I just wanna smash this thing into tiny—_

zzzzttt…..

_There we go! Alright now, talk to me, gimme something._

" —don't you sit your sweet little ass down beside ol' Harkin? Have a drink, and we'll see where this goes."

_Well, I did ask…_

"I'd rather drink a cup of acid after chewing on a razor blade."

_Haha, a real fireball, right from the start. I like her already._

\/\/\/

2183 CE, Day 23, 19:61 GST

"Why didn't Captain Anderson tell us he used to be a Spectre?"

"Maybe it's not true. Harkin's an ass. I bet he's just messing with our heads."

"You're probably right. Still, I'd like to hear what the captain has to say about all this."

"Focus, you two. True or not, Harkin's comments are irrelevant to the task at hand. All we need to worry about right now is getting to that clinic, so settle down and get your heads on straight. We move in five."

"Aye-aye, Commander." "Understood, ma'am."

* * *

_Damn, Commander. You talk about a smackdown….they're fairly close to their starting positions. And judging by the way their bodies are splayed out, I doubt the poor bastards got off more than a shot apiece, if that. _

The door to Chora's Den whooshed open. "—-move in five."

_Whoah, Commander Shepard? That's a little unexpected. I thought she'd be gone by now. Guess she stuck around for something else, like that business with Septimus. Or maybe it's the Jenna thing._

"Whew, all this running around is killing me."

_It must be. Someone's standing right in front of you, and you don't even notice. I mean, what if I was another one of Saren's goons? Well, I'm not, so whatever. While she's right here, though, I may as well introduce myself._

"With comments like that, this must be your first time down in the Wards. Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

"Hopefully not. I don't plan on sticking around."

_Maybe, but you'll have to learn the layout anyway. You're gonna spend way more time here than you think._

"Smart. People who stick around here too long tend to end up broke, or like these guys over here. Speaking of, am I right in thinking this is your handiwork?"

"I'm sorry, but wh—"

"Ah! Where are my manners? Name's Cooper. Edward Cooper. Most just call me Marshal, though."

"Marshal?"

"It's a long, boring story, one I'm sure you don't have time for, Miss…."

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Military."

"No first name?"

"It's just Shepard."

"Well, 'Just Shepard', I'd love to stay and chat some more, but um, well, the corpses. They're starting to smell a bit."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't sweat it, happens all the time, really. Now, if you could just scooch over a little…"

"Wha-? Oh! Oh, my bad. I didn't mean to block the door like that."

"Oh. I thought you knew. D'ya think I just walked up to you and started jabbering away for the hell of it?"

_I'm so lying through my teeth right now._

"Actually, you'd be surprised how many people do that."

_Believe you me, when it comes to that, it's only gonna get worse._

"That right? Well, anyways, I'll see you around. Or not, since you were just moving out, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's been about five minutes."

The door to Chora's Den whooshed open once more. "We're all set to go, ma'am."

"I'll take that as my cue to get going."

\/\/\/

"Hey, Commander, just curious. Who was that?"

"Edward Cooper. Also, 'Marshal', apparently."

"Do you know him, ma'am?"

"No. Total stranger. Never mind that, though. Let's get going. We've got a doctor to see."

\/\/\/

2183 CE, Day 23, 19:72 GST

Chora's Den was much emptier than it had been just an hour ago. Many of the usual suspects were nowhere in sight. General Oraka, Jenna and Chellick, even the dancers. Hell, Harkin had managed to stumble his way across the room and was nearing the door.

_Harkin may be drunk, but even he's not stupid enough to go chasing Shepard after that tongue lashing she gave him. Taking into consideration that, his habit of staying until closing time, and the fact that he's not being "escorted" out right now, him leaving can really only mean one thing._

Marshal sat down at the nearest stool and examined his omni-tools.

_From that last little snippet I managed to catch, it's obvious the Commander is going to Dr. Michel's place. And if I recall correctly, Garrus will wind up mentioning Wrex at some point after the little prep fight in the clinic. Chances are high that Shepard'll head down the elevator and skip over to C-Sec to pay him a visit before heading over here. If she doesn't, though, I need to make a choice. I can grab my gear and be in place to interrupt the altercation in the alley if I leave quickly. But, only a quarter of Fist's men have arrived. It's a riskier move, for a lot of reasons, but with a more evened playing field at the moment, I might could take Fist right now. If Shepard saves Wrex for later, I might even get some help on this. What to do…._

Marshal scanned the room quickly.

_Mostly human, with a couple turians and only the bouncer krogan. There won't be a better opportunity. But, Fist has SUCH untapped potential, so many possibilities as an asset. Can I afford to lose him?_

He scanned the room again. The krogan bouncer was now eyeing him. It seemed he gotten around to realizing that Marshal wasn't on Fist's payroll.

_The issue is quickly becoming moot. The bouncer's gesturing to the turians. Only way I'm getting out now is by running. That'll attract attention. Possibly too much for the alley option to work. No choice, then. If I'm going to attract attention….._

\/\/\/

"You know, we aren't the only ones going after Fist. The Shadow Broker hired a krogan bounty hunter named Wrex to take him out."

"Yeah, I think we saw him on the way here. He was flanked by C-Sec officers."

"That's him. Fist accused him of making threats, so we brought Wrex in for a little talk. If you hurry, you can catch him at the Academy before he leaves."

"A krogan might come in handy."

\/\/\/

_Shit, shit, SHIT! I should've headed for the alley while I had the chance!_

Bullets were flying overhead, but Marshal had firmly entrenched himself in cover, right in front of the door that lead to Fist.

_Thank goodness I decided to make that bouncer my priority. If I hadn't, I'd be riddled with bullet holes right now._

He fired his pistol at two turians trying to flank him from the right. He landed a rather fluky headshot on one, but only managed to hit the second one in the arm. It slowed him down just enough, though, for Marshal to hit him, and the five fresh bodies coming up behind him, with a wide area Cryo Blast.

_Damn it! If I only had my gear, this would be so much fucking easier! But no, I had to be all cautious and hide it until the proper time, so I wouldn't get arrested. A lot of good that did me!_

He popped back out of cover to fire at a group of four that had gotten dangerously close on the left side. No conservative fire here, all body shots. Luckily, they all went down without a great deal of trouble. He noticed the group on the right was thawing out. He fired an Incineration Blast at them. The turian took the brunt of the attack, literally disintegrating before his comrades. The rest of them fared far better, but their burns were still serious enough to render them a non-issue for quite a while. But as soon as they went down, three more dropped down from the ceiling to renew the pressure on the right side.

_They just won't stop coming!_

Marshal heard a pneumatic hiss, and immediately ducked. He had been right to, as two more had emerged from behind the door and fired on him. He used Overload to fry their weapons, and at such close range, opted not to fire his pistol but instead ran them both through with his omni-blades. A bullet grazed his shoulder, sending pain signals rocketing throughout his body, reminding him that there were still enemies approaching. As Marshal turned around, he saw that the tables and crates he'd been using for cover had been obliterated. Only by using the body still attached to one his blades as a shield, did he manage to retreat behind the door and seal it.

_Alone, outnumbered, and outgunned. No armor, no kinetic barrier, and no specialized weaponry. The only real difference makers I can call on are in my omni-tools, and they're meant to supplement my melee strikes or be launched from short range, and only in the absolute worst case scenario. That door won't hold for very long, and I can't exactly run into the next room. That's where Fist has locked himself in, safe and secure with those annoying turrets. Honestly, I'd say I've probably wiped out two-thirds of Fist's men at this point, but if the rest of them keep coming at the rate they were, they can literally just line up at the door and break the damn thing down with sheer pressure in about twenty seconds. Barring some type of miracle, I'm looking at 2 minutes, tops, before I'm a DEAD MAN._

\/\/\/

The gunshots rang loud through the air, a constant barrage of near-deafening noise.

"Looks like you were right, Commander. I don't know he got past C-Sec, but that's got to be Wrex in there."

"On that we agree, Garrus. I really don't see any other possibilities at the moment."

"What about that 'Marshal' guy, Commander? He seemed kinda shifty to me."

"I gotta side with Ashley on this, ma'am. Something about him just seemed a bit off."

A look of disgust appeared on Garrus's face. He hadn't heard that name uttered in quite a while, but he clearly remembered the man behind it. He and that salarian doctor, Saleon, had almost made him quit C-Sec at one point. The day Saleon got away was one of the worst of his life, and at the time, Edward Cooper was nigh-untouchable. Widely known as a pillar of the community, a self-made man, and a stock market genius, evidence implicating him in anything had to be of colossal proportions to get any kind of attention. Garrus had acquired that in spades, but the asshole wound up using his accumulated wealth and network of connections to suppress coverage of it in the media. Add in the fact that C-Sec had been downplaying the case to begin with, in order to keep the public from needlessly panicking over the organ harvesting ring and lessen scrutiny on them for allowing Saleon to escape, no trial ever took place and the whole thing got glossed over. A good portion of the facts had come out later, but not enough for the case to get reexamined.

However, a sort of consolation prize had come from Harkin, of all people, who had latched on to a serial arson case from a few years back. The news articles from when it was fresh had christened the perpetrator "Marshal", as a kind of joke meant to poke fun at the then-fire marshal in charge of that Ward for what they regarded as extreme levels of incompetency in the matter. The name stuck, but the case had lain dormant with minimal evidence to be had. Harkin had somehow managed to resurrect it from cold case status, and uncovered evidence that had been initially missed, and eventually connected it to Cooper. It caused a media firestorm and really brought the heat down on the highly regarded multi-billionaire and principal owner of Jormangund Technology. Edward Cooper hadn't gone down without a fight, however, as he once more used his money and power to battle back with allegations of complacency and corruption in C-Sec. Twistedly enough, the accusations weren't without merit, and they deflected attention away from him long enough for him to drag Fist into it, which caught the attention of Internal Affairs. An investigation was launched that led to Cooper being proclaimed innocent (not that anyone believed it), but the whole debacle had managed to put quite a strain on his resources, associated him with a known criminal entity, and eventually forced Jormangund to shut down entirely. Cooper may have avoided jail time, but his reputation was trashed. After that, he skipped town and went to the Terminus Systems, where he used his new nickname and leftover resources to carve out a name for himself yet again, this time as one of the top human mercenaries around.

Marshal, as most people called him now, hadn't been seen in Citadel Space for years. The perception was that he simply had no reason to come back. Garrus had never bought it, just as he had never bought him just being in the wrong place during the Saleon incident. He had at first suspected that Marshal was simply branching out on Fist's behalf under the assumption that the fervor would die down completely at some point and he could come back. After time, however, that theory had become less and less likely. But hearing these Alliance soldiers talk about him so casually, confirmed what he had heard from Executor Pallin just a few weeks prior, that he was indeed back on the Citadel. It seemed that the preparation he had undergone for just such an occasion, gathering all the knowledge on Marshal he could get his hands on, might pay off after all.

"We can debate this when we—hey! Where're you going, Garrus!"

"If Marshal's involved, we can't sit back and watch!"

\/\/\/

An absolutely monstrous brute of a krogan barreled through the door. With barely any time to react, he managed to get out of the way, but landed flat on his back with such force that he had no chance of retaining grip on his pistol, which went flying across the room. Thinking quickly, he fired a piping-hot, limited area Incineration Blast right where the door used to be. That would hold back the flood gates, for now. The only problem with that was, it forced Marshal into a situation no one EVER wants to be in: Trapped in close quarters with an angry krogan wielding a shotgun.

_Oh, this is great. Just FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC! Alright, you son of a bitch, get up. Get up! I've got something for you, right here…._

Marshal scrambled up off of his back, just as the krogan was getting up from his knees. He struck him in both eyes, temporarily blinding the krogan, who (very stupidly) preceded to raise his hands to his face and thus, drop his shotgun. He sidestepped the blind krogan's attempts to hit him and delivered a shot directly to his throat, to cut off the all-important air supply, and perhaps even more importantly, trigger his blood rage.

_Normally, deliberately forcing a krogan into a blood-enraged state would be tantamount to committing suicide. But this isn't a normal situation. It'll take a moment to kick in, and another for his instincts to take over, and yet another for his body to gear up for the most basic of all krogan tactics._

The entirety of the krogan's eyes went red.

_Prime it…._

"RRRRRAAAAAAHHHHH!"

_Hold your ground. Don't dodge. Hold. Your. Ground._

Running completely on instinct now, the krogan threw all of his body, all of his energy, into charging the enemy right in front of him.

_It's all or nothing with this one. Execute it perfectly, or you'll pay the ultimate price for failure._

"EAT THIS, MOTHERFUCKER!"

Just before the krogan made contact, Marshal connected with a punch to the gut, augmented by a Systems Alliance Mk 14 grenade, that instead of detonating in a wide radius and killing both Marshal and the krogan immediately, was specially modified to channel every single newton of bone-breaking force and explosive power into just one direction: Forward.

* * *

Shepard, Garrus, Ashley, and Kaidan were, for just an instant, shocked at what they saw when they entered Chora's Den. It was a bloodbath. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Some were charred, some frozen and shattered. Still others crackled and buzzed with electricity, and some were just simply torn to pieces.

There was a small mob of humans, turians, and a few krogan trying to break down a door on the far side. The ones in the back were the first to notice the four person squad intruding on their territory.

"Reinforcements!"

Most of the mob broke off to take care of this new threat, while a few remained to continue on the door. Worn, they attacked haphazardly, trying desperately to swarm and overwhelm their latest foe. Needless to say, they failed. In no more than 30 seconds, their numbers had been cut in half, and from there, they were picked apart. One by one, they fell, until only fifteen of the attackers remained. It was then that the krogan at the forefront managed to break through the door. Three turned to try and assist, only to be turned back by a wall of white-hot flames in the doorway. While their backs were turned, Garrus picked one off, Ashley another. The third got biotically slammed into a wall by Kaidan. And then….

BOOM!

The same krogan who had entered the doorway less than a minute ago was flying through the air like a rag doll, body alight with flames, with a gaping hole in his chest.

The dozen men and women now left were thoroughly spooked. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, they took one look at the dead krogan and decided to focus all their energy on Shepard's squad, if only to try and open up an escape route out of this hellish nightmare. If they hadn't been so damn scared, they would've realized this was the worst possible move they could make.

\/\/\/

_I took on a charging, blood-enraged krogan with nothing but my fists and a jury-rigged explosive. That settles it. I am now OFFICIALLY insane._

Marshal clawed his way back up to a standing position using the nearby (now blown-to-shit) weapons and equipment lockers.

_Alright, let's assess the damage. Torso: intact, but most definitely with some internal bleeding. Limbs: Legs are a little wobbly, that'll wear off. Left arm's practically useless, what with getting shot, and the explosion knocking me back onto it. Shoulder's for sure dislocated. Right arm's fine. Five senses: Functioning very well, and far more than I'd dared to hope for._

He heard the sound of assualt rifle fire, and the rapport of a sniper rifle hitting its mark.

_That explains why there aren't 40+ men and women trying to rip my throat out at this very moment. 'Cause that doorway is perfectly passable now._

Marshal looked left and saw the door to Fist's inner sanctum, the lock fried. Realizing how close Fist was, he was filled with an emotion he hadn't felt in years: Hate. Not anger, not rage, not fury, but pure, unadulterated hate. He forgot all about the potential he had seen, the possibility of a future where Fist was an asset, an ally even. He remembered that Fist once worked for the Shadow Broker, a vicious, vile creature he yearned to see die a most painful death for the humiliation and suffering it had dealt him nearly a decade ago. He remembered, that unlike Barla Von, Fist had done him a personal injustice, fueling the fire and fanning the flames that completely destroyed his chances of becoming anything close to legitimate, all but forcing him into the line of work he was now in. He remembered that Fist was a man who killed to feed his own ego, who betrayed needlessly and without cause, a man who would sell out the future of every single race just to satisfy his own greed. For once, the road ahead of him was not clouded. There were no questions to be answered, no philosophical puzzles to be solved, no matters of free will or personal choice to factor in. The future was clear. Fist was going to die, and it would be by his own hand that it happened.

Marshal forgot all his pain, all his injuries, the adrenaline pumping strongly throughout his body. He picked up the weapon from the krogan warrior he had so recently felled, and stormed in. Two shotgun blasts later, and the turrets were destroyed before Fist could even raise them. With the shotgun overheated, he threw it aside and preceded to take the Mk 14 in his right omni-tool and, unlike earlier, actually use it as a projectile by firing it directly at Fist. It exploded, and vaporized him from the shoulders up. Fist's arms, disconnected from everything else, fell before his body and hit the ground with a sickening thud.

With the thrill of victory came a loss of adrenaline. The pain came rushing back with a vengeance.

_Get ahold of yourself, Ed! You've still got things to do, remember?_

Slowly, he walked across the room searching for the OSD, the files that he would need to get himself in the good graces of the people who had undoubtedly followed him here, searching for answers. He searched, and searched, and finally found it. It had been blown away during the blast, all the way to the wall with the safe.

_I'm a very lucky man. This could've been damaged in the blast, or even destroyed outright, but here it is, safe and sound. The very thing I need to gain that initial foothold, that first level of trust, right here in the palms of my hands._

* * *

BOOM!

"There it is again," said Ashley. "Stay on your toes."

"No kidding," Kaidan concurred, "I don't know what could do that to a krogan, and I'm not sure I want to find out"

Garrus scowled. "The stab wounds. The explosions. The frozen limbs, scorched skin, and electrified flesh. All of this is just a microcosm of his fascination with chemistry, the elements, and the archaic. Every bit of it screams 'Look at me, look at what I can do! Look at the havoc I can cause without even trying.' No doubt about it, this is Marshal's work, through and through."

"Garrus," asked Shepard, "since you seem to know something about this guy, tell me, just what are we in for?"

"What are we in for? A conniving, backstabbing, weasel of a mercenary with deadly skills and a penchant for blowing things up," Garrus answered. "But, still, something about all of this doesn't add up. Separated from the other grunts as he may be, he still works for Fist. Why would he do this?"

"It could just be a simple coup," Shepard replied. "Or maybe he's loyal to the Shadow Broker."

Garrus remarked, "Nothing with him is ever simple."

\/\/\/

_C'mon…._

Nothing.

_Hurry up!_

Still nothing.

Then, finally, Shepard and Co. walked in.

"Well, it's about damn time!"


	4. Trust Issues

**~ Go on and consume this chapter like the big, delicious, ficburger (or some other ficfood, if that's your thing) that it is. You know you want to.~**

**Trust Issues**

_Reckless though his actions were, it seems Garrus was right on the money. That's Marshal._

The figure standing before Shepard in the middle of Fist's inner sanctum was, indeed, the same man she had met not an hour before. He was covered nearly from head to toe in different shades of blood, but it seemed from her eyes, over half of it was his. Aside from that, he looked mostly the same as last time, which struck her as odd. Her hand instinctively strayed toward her hip.

_No armor to speak of, and only a pistol for protection. I don't like this at all…_

Marshal noticed their presence.

"Well, it's about damn time!" he exclaimed. "You really had me going there. I was almost beginning to think you wouldn't show."

_He's been expecting us?_

"I don't know what you're plotting, Cooper," Garrus growled, "But I'm gonna make you regret waiting around."

"Plotting?" Marshal said, feigning hurt feelings. "That's a little uncalled for, Vakarian. I'm just trying to help."

"Uncalled for? UNCALLED FOR?!"

Garrus drew his pistol and aimed it at Marshal.

_No! This is the only lead we have, Garrus!_

"Williams, restrain him!"

Ashley started, but before she could get close enough to pin him down, Garrus whipped around. His eyes were wild, his look almost feral. Kaidan's arms flared blue, preparing to strike.

Marshal hollered from across the room, "Whoa, WHOA, calm down everybody!" His face betrayed his surprise at the current situation, something Shepard did not fail to notice.

"He's right, Garrus. Just cool it," Shepard said, in what she hoped was a soothing tone, and not a condescending one. "We're very short on leads right now."

Garrus was seething. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Shepard, I know this man. You can't trust a word he says. Besides, he's standing at the scene of a crime, one he's obviously responsible for! As a C-Sec officer, it's my duty to-"

"Pursuing Saren is what matters right now!" yelled Shepard. "Holster your weapon, Garrus. Now."

Garrus hesitated for a moment, then complied, albeit very reluctantly.

"Fine. But when he stabs us all in the back, you'll wish you'd listened to me."

\/\/\/

_This is what I was afraid of. Garrus is so pissed that he's losing his grip on things. To think that he actually pointed his gun at his allies…oh well. I can't exactly switch tactics now. Gotta bull rush and hope for the best._

"You done, Vakarian?"

"Can it," Shepard said, turning her attention fully on Marshal. "If you're really here to help, stop posturing and tell us what you know."

_Focus. This is a delicate stage. You can't let on how much you know they know._

"Very well. As I'm sure you know, Fist was an agent for the Shadow Broker. But what you may not know is that he recently turned traitor, and, until just now, was in the employ of one Saren Arterius."

"As a matter of fact, we do know that," piped Kaidan. "Ma'am, this guy is-"

"NOT. Wasting your time. If you would, Shepard, please reign in your subordinates. This will go much faster if I'm not cut off every two seconds."

Instead, Shepard gave Marshal a sort of warning stare. "Well, go on."

_Judging by the look on her face, she feels the same as the Lieutenant does, and is just being diplomatic to set an example. I'll have to cut down on some of my more colorful metaphors, then._

"Thank you. Now as I was saying, Fist's last employer was Saren. That caught my eye pretty quick, because I have a huge bone to pick with him. And regardless of what a certain washed-up drunk of a former officer says, Fist and I have never been anything but enemies. I just came here to see what was what, and instead I ran into a small army of trigger-happy thugs. I managed to hole myself up in the hallway, and when you guys showed up and took the heat off me, I took the opportunity to get a face-to-face with Fist."

Marshal paused for a moment, looking down at the remains of Fist with disdain.

"He was hostile from the get go. I beat him to near-death before he even tried to say anything. I didn't get much out of him before he bit the dust, but what I did get involves some quarian. He said she came to him, looking to make a deal with the Shadow Broker for the data she had, data incriminating Saren in an attack on an Alliance colony. She said she'd only talk to the Shadow Broker himself. She apparently didn't know that the Shadow Broker never meets anyone in person, that he works exclusively through agents, and Fist took advantage. He set up a 'meeting' in the back alley behind the markets. When she gets there, though, it'll be Saren's men waiting for her."

"Don't trust him, Shepard," Garrus pleaded, "He's trying to lead you into a trap."

_Introducing now: Exhibit A in the case of Cooper V. Vakarian._

"I get it, Vakarian, you don't trust me. But maybe this will change your mind."

Marshal tossed Fist's OSD to Garrus.

Garrus stared warily at it. "What is this?"

"A token of good faith on my part."

"That's not what I asked."

"Always gotta be picky. Well, if you want to get technical, contained within that OSD are Fist's personal files. Among the files is irrefutable evidence that Harkin collaborated with Fist to frame me. And if that wasn't enough, I know for a fact there are plenty of juicy details on his operations, future plans, the works. More than enough to nail anyone remotely close to him that's survived this affair. Satisfied?"

Garrus's looked stunned for a second, then it was back to his usual expression.

"….for now." With that, Garrus handed the OSD to Shepard. "You should handle this. Your reporter friend will be very interested in this, to say the least."

"Not to rush you or anything, ma'am," Kaidan interjected, "But if we're going to follow up on this lead, we should get going."

"Marshal," Shepard questioned, "Can you give us a timeframe on the meeting?"

"The meeting is taking place right now. If you leave immediately, you have a chance."

Without hesitation, Shepard turned to her squad. "All three of you, go on ahead. Alenko, you're in charge until I catch up. Move out! "

She turned back to Marshal.

"I don't know what your angle is, and I don't really care. I can use all the help I can get. Are you in?"

"I appreciate the offer, but you four should be enough for this one."

"I'm not blind. You may be standing, but you're certainly not in any condition to fight right now. I'm just offering you a place on my crew."

"_Just offering"? Okay "Just Shepard". I'll play along._

"I wasn't aware you had one."

"I don't. But if this turns out like I think it will, the Citadel Council will send me after Saren."

_Time to really flex those acting chops._

"No way they'd do that. You'd have to be a, a…"

"Spectre."

_Wonder if I'll get an award for this? I should, the stutter always reels 'em in._

"….Spectre, you say. Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?"

"Good. I'll meet you in the clinic after this is over."

"That won't be necessary. I stashed my gear relatively close by, and there're tools to patch myself up with. When you want to get ahold of me, you can contact me via comm. The frequency is 140.15, channel 13719. It's a private channel, so you'll need the sixteen digit password. It's 2121441218121821. Got all that?"

"Yeah, I got it. Are you sure you'll be…"

"Your concern is touching, but I'll be fine. Believe me, I look a lot worse than I am. I'll rest here for a few, and get going."

"If you're sure. I've spent too much time here as it is. So, I guess we'll be in touch."

And with that, Commander Shepard took off after her squad like a bolt of lightning.

\/\/\/

"What took you so long?" asked Kaidan.

"Never mind that," replied Shepard, "Status report."

"No sign of the quarian. It's possible this is a setup like Garrus warned us about."

"If it is, I don't see what Marshal would have to gain from it."

Garrus joined in on the conversation. "That's the point. Keeping people in the dark, obscuring his intentions, that's how he operates."

Ashley whispered, "Hang on, I think I see someone coming."

"Steady," said Shepard. "Nobody move until I give the signal."

"Did you bring it?"

"Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?"

* * *

Marshal fast-limped his way through the wrecked night club, stepping around the bodies and debris that lay everywhere.

_Smart, decisive, and surprisingly willing to give people a chance. I expected her to be a bit harder, and possibly even xenophobic, given the trauma she endured on Mindoir and Akuze. No matter. Being aboard the Normandy, it's not like I won't get a lot more opportunities to perfect that psych profile._

He made his way toward the rapid transit station. Before long, an X3M pulled up.

"Where you go…whoa, are you alright?"

"Just fine. Take me to Flux."

"You sure? Dr. Michel's clinic isn't much farther than Flux, y'know. I won't even charge you extra for it."

"That's nice and all, but I'm not going to the clinic. Take me to Flux."

"Whatever, man. It's your funeral."

\/\/\/

"Fist set me up! I knew I couldn't trust him!"

"Don't worry about Fist. He got what was coming to him."

"Then I guess there are two things I need to thank you for."

* * *

Between the talkative cabbie and the pulsing beats emanating from the casino, if Marshal didn't have a headache before, he did now.

"What the hell happened to you, Ralph?"

_It's never ceases to amaze me how incredibly easy it is to fool people._

"Nice to see you too, Rita."

"I'm serious, you look half-dead!"

"It's nothing, just a few scratches from a shootout in Chora's Den."

"Chora's Den…oh no."

"Don't worry. Looks like Chellick pulled her off the case just before it went down. She sure wasn't there when the bullets were flying, I can tell you that."

"Oh, thank heavens!"

"Hey, you still got that package I gave you?"

"Yeah, Doran let me store it in the back. But that's hardly important, you need medical attention!"

"Just give me the package, and I promise I'll go to the clinic."

"Oh, alright. Gimme a sec."

_Yes, thank you!_

"Hey, Doran, I'm going on break!"

\/\/\/

"You're not making my life easy, Shepard. Firefights in the wards? An all-out assault on Chora's Den? Do you know how many—"

Ambassador Udina stopped mid sentence, mainly because he was baffled by what he saw in front of him. Being a politician, he recovered rather quickly.

"Who's this? A quarian? What are you up to, Shepard?

"This quarian can help us bring down Saren. I would've told you that if you hadn't jumped down my throat."

* * *

_Ah, that's much better. Why bother going to a clinic when my armor moonlights as a mobile ICU? Granted, I'm gonna look a little weird coming out of the bathroom like this, all decked out and armed to the teeth, but maintaining my cover in front of Rita is hardly necessary at this point._

"What the hell, Ralph?! You had me holding smuggled weapons and armor?!"

"Who's Ralph? My name's Marshal."

"Marshal? As in…"

_And here I was, prepping for another tedious explanation. Saves me some time. But I wonder why she didn't see through "Ralph", then? Hmm. Guess I'll have to chalk that one up to people seeing what they want to see._

"Yes, THAT Marshal. And don't worry about calling security. I'll see myself out."

\/\/\/

Captain Anderson was waiting for Shepard near the top flight of stairs in the Citadel Tower.

"Come on. Udina's presenting the quarian's evidence to the Council."

* * *

_The vids make it seem so easy. All that heist crap, it just doesn't work like that. Sneaking around on catwalks, bypassing security, it's a whole lot harder than it looks. Krios was right and all, there's plenty of flaws in the system, ripe for exploitation. But he's an assassin, trained from childhood to do this kind of thing for a living. Me? I'm just a guy, sore as hell from all this stealth bullshit. As if being injured wasn't enough, I've gotta skulk around while I'm trying to heal, avoiding everybody until Shepard's little Spectre ceremony is over. The Council just L-O-V-E-S their pomp and circumstance. I've got half a mind to just stroll right in to C-Sec, guns and all, and see if I can get away with it. The worst they could do is arrest me on illegal weapons charges. Even if the Commander wasn't serious about her offer and refused to bail me out, I could escape fairly easily. Not something I could've said eight years ago, but life in the Terminus Systems toughens you up, if nothing else. You know what? I think I will. Wait, no I won't. Wrex is down there, waiting on Shepard. Damn. This is such a pain in the ass._

Marshal sighed, as he tried to get comfortable with the notion of waiting around again, this time high atop a set of rafters near the elevator to the Alliance Docking Bay. He said to himself, "Remind me again, brain, why exactly did I piss off a krogan battlemaster? Remind me one more time, about the spark that got that one rollin', would ya?"

He didn't really need to ask himself that. He knew the answer, and it ate at him every day.

_Jack Harper._


	5. Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em

**~ In this one, there's elevator rides, vomit, and Martin Sheen sucking on a pen. There's also some krogan named Wrex, but you don't care about that, do you? I thought not. Pens are way more exciting. ~**

**Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em**

2183 CE, Day 24, 06:13

_I've been up here for FOUR hours. I wonder if she really was just jerking me around…._

Marshal's omni-tool buzzed to life.

"Marshal, come in. This is Shepard."

_Well, that answers that._

"Marshal speaking."

"I just got done with the Council. If you're still interested, meet me at Flux in half an hour."

"Actually, it'd probably be best that we meet up at C-Sec."

"Alright, let's lay down some ground rules. I'm in command, you're not. If you want to join my crew, you'll do things the way I say, got it? I said Flux, so we're meeting at Flux, end of story."

_Jeez, Shepard, what crawled up your ass? You know what, never mind. Odds are it's just pent up frustration from all the bureaucracy and running around. At any rate, if you want to go all alpha dog and mark your territory, go right ahead. Getting into a pissing contest with you is not particularly high on my "to do" list._

"Understood, Commander. I just thought you might want to meet the krogan battlemaster waiting for you here, that's all."

There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"Explain."

"Wrex caught wind of 'your' takedown of Fist, and is dead set on meeting you. He's been standing around, blocking the elevator to your ship for the past hour and a half, with no signs of moving any time soon. So, yeah, it's not like you'll really be able to avoid him."

Once again, silence on the other end.

"C-Sec it is. I'll be coming down from the Presidium side. Be at the ready, just in case."

"Just in case? Do you really think he'll try something in the heart of the entire Citadel's police force?"

"With the way my luck's been lately, I can't really afford to dismiss the notion."

"How pessimistic."

"Just be ready."

"Whatever you say, boss."

\/\/\/

Marshal whistled. "Man, that's a long way down. Guess that's the price to pay for being flashy."

\/\/\/

Shepard and Co. stepped off the elevator.

Kaidan exhaled. "He wasn't kidding. No way we're getting past him."

"My, he's a big one," marveled Tali, "I hope he's friendly."

Shepard looked around. "Garrus, you see Marshal anywhere?"

Garrus replied, "No. But I'm sure he's around."

"Ashley?"

"Negative, Commander. If he's here, he's well hidden."

Shepard sighed. "No point in standing around. Let's go."

\/\/\/

_I can't believe she got to Fist before I did. Stupid C-Sec grunts, delaying me like that. I oughta go over there and teach them a lesson right now._

Wrex looked around for the umpteenth time, and finally, he saw her.

_Good. I'm tired of standing around._

"You. Human. You the one they call Shepard?"

"That's me. Commander Shepard."

* * *

_Here goes nothing. Hope I don't break anything._

\/\/\/

"The name's Wrex. The Shadow Broker paid me a lot of money to get rid of Fist, only you got there first."

"Actually-"

Tali nudged the Commander. "Shepard, look!"

Marshal landed on his feet, right beside Wrex.

"Hiya, Wrex."

The grizzled krogan mercenary turned around.

"You! What're you doing here?"

"Couldn't very well let Shepard take credit for my work, now could I?"

Wrex leered at him, and then turned back to Shepard.

"Is this true?"

"I was about to tell you, before he dropped out of the damn sky."

Wrex turned his attention to Marshal once more.

"Humph. That figures. First time in five years that I've seen you, and now I can't even kill you."

"Almost like I planned it that way, huh?"

"Yeah, almost…."

"The least you could do now is thank me. After all, I did your job for you."

"How about I refrain from beating you to a bloody pulp, and we'll leave it at that."

Shepard cleared her throat. "I take it you two have a history?"

Wrex replied, "Nothing I care to talk about."

"How nice of you, Wrex," Marshal remarked, "I half expected you to rehash the whole thing."

"I've got better things to do."

"Such as standing around in front of elevators?"

"Shut up, before I throw you down one."

"Ha! Go ahead and lumber over here, grandpa. You can't even touch me."

"Keep it up, I'll connect my foot with your ass, same as last time."

"Don't even try it. You'd just whiff and fall over like a bad cartoon villain."

Shepard was getting a little fed up with the back and forth. "Are you done, Marshal?! I don't have all day to listen to this."

Marshal sighed. "Yeah, yeah, leave the big man alone, got it."

Wrex smirked. "That's right, go on. Run with your tail between your legs."

"I will slap the taste out of your mouth, you fu-"

"Marshal!"

Marshal grumbled under his breath.

Shepard turned to Wrex. "It seems we've gotten a little off track. You were saying?"

"I was going to say that I'd transfer the payment I received for the Fist job to you, but-"

"Wait, you were going to pay me for getting rid of Fist?"

"I can't take credit for someone else's work. It's shameful. But it seems I'll have to, because I'm sure as hell not paying Marshal a single credit."

"As if I'd ever consider taking a handout from you," Marshal quipped.

"Anyway, I hear you're going after Saren. I was thinking I should come along."

"You're a bounty hunter. What do you get out of going after Saren?"

"I'm not in this for the money. I want to be where the action is. There's a storm coming, and you and Saren are right in the middle of it."

"Why me? Saren's already got a lot of krogan working for him."

"Those aren't krogan!" Wrex spat with contempt, "They're servants. They grovel at Saren's feet to lick his boots, trading their freedom for promises of wealth and power. My people were a proud species once. Some of us still remember that. I won't bow down to Saren like the others."

"We'll take you with us, Wrex."

"Smart move, Shepard."

Shepard turned now to her ever growing motley crew."Now that that's out of the way, we can finally get all those other things done. Williams, Alenko, take this and go scan some more keepers. Garrus, take Fist's files to Wong. When you're done, head over to the Markets and wait for me."

Ashley, Garrus, and Kaidan all responded with, "Aye-aye!", and dispersed.

"The rest of you, with me," Shepard said, "We're going to the volus and elcor embassies, then to Shaira's."

"Hey, Commander," Marshal spoke, "Do you really need me on this one?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I've still got some unfinished business to attend to."

"Very well. But when I call, you'd better be ready to leave."

"Understood."

"Wrex, Tali, let's get a move on."

\/\/\/

"So tell me, who'd win in a fight between you and Shepard?"

"Do krogan size up everyone for a fight, even friends and allies?"

"Yes."

* * *

"LT, she said to scan some of them, not ALL of them."

"There's no harm in being thorough."

"Thorough, my ass. I know what you're doing."

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, Chief."

* * *

"You've got Fist's files? This could be even bigger than I'd hoped!"

"It was nothing, really."

"Here, for your trouble. And send Commander Shepard my regards."

\/\/\/

"What's with the helmets, Tali? Are all quarians shy, or do you not believe in letting outsiders see your faces?"

"No, living in the clean environment of the flotilla has weakened our immune systems. The environmental suits protect against diseases."

"Naturally. Anything that isn't constantly challenged grows weak."

* * *

_Aside from nearly breaking every bone in both my legs, that went better than expected. Wrex didn't even pull his gun out. Maybe he's actually over the whole Wreav business, and just won't admit it to himself…..No, that's not it. What am I thinking? Wreav's family. He'd rather not call him family, sure, but blood is blood. Yeah, he's still pissed._

Marshal fiddled with his omni-tools. A miniature holographic display popped up.

"Mr. Cooper, it's been a while."

"I've been a little busy."

"So I hear. Tell me, why did you find it necessary to kill my best lead on the Shadow Broker? I've spent a lot of time and effort trying to turn him."

"I was under the impression that you wanted him dead, what with Rasa having finished her mission."

"Your knowledge of affairs that don't concern you is troubling, to say the least, Mr. Cooper."

"I wouldn't be worth my exorbitant salary if I didn't know."

"Agreed. Now what did you call me for? I'm not one for idle chat."

"I've managed to position myself close to humanity's first Spectre, who is currently on a mission to capture Saren Arterius."

"Commander Shepard?"

"Yes. I've even heard that her vessel will be the SSV Normandy."

"Captain Anderson's vessel? An intriguing choice, to be sure."

"It's fitting, don't you think? At the heart of it, the Normandy is really a Cerberus ship to begin with. And now you'll finally have an operative on board."

"As always, Mr. Cooper, you've proven yourself to be an invaluable asset."

"Much appreciated. Orders?"

"Just surveillance for now, the usual. I'll leave the duration of your stay up to you."

"I wonder, are you going to tell Rasa about this?"

"…Not immediately, no."

"Interesting. And what if Shepard stumbles across a Cerberus installation?"

"Should that happen, I'll trust in your judgement and discretion."

"Even if it winds up being destroyed?"

"I have a feeling that you already know which ones I can afford to lose."

"You give me too much credit."

"Notify me if Shepard is involved. That's all. You have earned my trust in most matters thrice over."

"High praise, indeed. I'll keep you posted. Cooper out."

_Ugh. I think I just threw up a little. Still, it'll all be worth it if things work out even half as well as planned. _


	6. Regis Philbin

**~ Hi there, fancy seeing you around these parts. I've been raising puppies, you see, because my dog is a real…horndog (Lame pun is lame). So I didn't notice you there, waiting on an update. Awfully sorry 'bout that. Of course, you could have been standing there, ready to chop my head off, wondering what I'm blathering on about, because you're a serial killer. In which case, I should probably run. But i won't. Because I'm laaazzzy. Kinda like how I write this story. Oh yes, I'm a terrible writer. Didn't you know that? Well, you should've. Now go on, now, git! ~**

**Regis Philbin**

2183 CE, Day 24, 14:20 GST

_A paranoid volus, exploding AI, hanar preacher, and Conrad McStalkerman encounter later, I'm finally here at the Normandy. I have the feeling these side quests aren't falling by the wayside any time soon._

"You okay?" Shepard asked, "Don't space out on me, now."

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little in awe of your ship," replied Marshal, "Most of the vessels I travel on are, how do you say, pieces of shit?"

Shepard wasn't buying it. "Rich man like you? I find that hard to swallow."

"I've never put much stock into ships," Marshal explained. "I find upgraded weapons and armor to be far more useful in my day-to-day."

"You may soon change your mind," said Shepard, "There's certainly no shortage of cutting-edge tech here on the Normandy. She's a one of a kind prototype."

"With that massive drive core, I'm sure she is. I bet that thing could power a dreadnought," marveled Marshal.

"It's necessary for the stealth systems. If you want a more in-depth explanation on how it works, I suggest you go talk to Adams," said Shepard, pointing over her shoulder. "In the meantime, I guess we need to find you someplace to store your things."

Marshal waved her off. "That won't be necessary, Commander. I'm fine down here. The cargo bay is more than adequate."

"Really?" Shepard inquired, "It's pretty crowded down here."

"Yeah, I'll just set up shop in that corner over there. Not like I have much to begin with," sighed Marshal.

"Suit yourself. If you need me for some reason, talk to Joker." Shepard started towards the door, but quickly turned back around. "Before I forget, be sure to acquaint yourself with Dr. Chakwas. The last thing I need is you collapsing in the middle of a mission."

Marshal groaned. "You're still on about that?"

"Just humor me, would you?" said a slightly exasperated Shepard.

"Fine, fine. I'll go see her."

\/\/\/

_You'd think with it being the future, they could fix the damn elevator. But no, it's slower than it was in the game itself. For fuck's sake, there's not even any music on this one! At least the Citadel has the courtesy to pipe in news reports and a crappy jingle to distract you._

The elevator came to a stop, and Marshal stepped out. And by stepped out, I mean he fell out, and landed flat on his face.

_Stupid mass effect elevator technology. I swear, it's worse than those moving sidewalks at airports, all jelly legs and shit. This is exactly why I take the stairs._

Marshal got up from the floor, very relieved that no one was around to see him, and proceeded to make his way over to the med bay.

Right before he got to the door, it opened with a soft chime, and Marshal found himself face-to-face with a certain Alliance Lieutenant.

* * *

Jeff Moreau was a little conflicted. On one hand, he liked Shepard, and he certainly believed she had more than earned a shot to show the galaxy what she was made of. But on the other hand, the way it went down had left an awfully sour taste in his mouth. After all, Captain Anderson had vouched for him, swatted aside a court-martial for him, and got the approval from the Alliance's side for him to pilot the Normandy in the first place. When he first heard that Anderson was essentially getting booted off the ship, he'd wanted to wring Udina's neck, and to hell with the consequences. He could've lived with a broken arm (or two) if it meant putting that slimeball in his place. Now though, seeing what was at stake, and who was in charge, it didn't seem like a complete disaster. If anyone could step into Anderson's shoes, it was Commander Shepard.

His train of thought was broken by the clanking of boots on metal. It seemed the Commander had finally finished showing everybody around.

"I heard what happened to Captain Anderson. Survives a hundred battles, and then gets taken down by backroom politics. Just watch your back, Commander. Things go bad on this mission, you're next on their chopping block."

"Saren's out there somewhere. And we're going to find him."

"Everyone on this ship is behind you, Commander. One hundred percent. Intercom's open. If you've got anything you want to say to the crew, now's the time."

\/\/\/

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," said a surprised Kaidan. "I figured you'd just blow off Commander Shepard like you did earlier."

Dryly, Marshal replied, "I may beat to my own drum, but I'd also rather not get thrown out of the airlock."

Kaidan raised an eyebrow. "I don't think Shepard would go that far."

"You'd be surprised what people will do when they've been pushed far enough," commented Marshal.

"That sounds like it comes from experience," Kaidan said inquisitively.

_Okay, Freud, that's enough._

"Are you always this heavy handed, Kaidan?"

"Probably," said Kaidan, without missing a beat. "It's not often that I probe for information like this."

"Why break out of that routine now?" asked Marshal. "Why am I the exception?"

Kaidan stared at Marshal, refusing to blink. "Because Garrus doesn't strike me as a loose cannon. I don't think he'd point a loaded firearm at an ally without a damn good reason."

"Ah, the incident in Chora's Den. Well, I promise you, I won't be any trouble," Marshal countered smoothly. "At least not as far as you're concerned."

The Normandy's intercom came to life.

"This is Commander Shepard speaking."

\/\/\/

"We have our orders: find Saren before he finds the Conduit. I won't lie to you, crew. This mission isn't going to be easy."

"This began with an attack on a human settlement in the Traverse. But we know Saren won't stop there. His geth armies aren't going to stay on the far fringes of Citadel space."

"Our enemy knows we're coming. Wherever he searches for the Conduit, we'll be there. We will hunt him to the very ends of the galaxy and bring him down!"

"This is the most important mission any of us have ever been on. The fate of an entire galaxy is at stake. We will stop Saren, no matter what the cost!"

\/\/\/

"Well said, Commander. Captain would be proud."

"Fancy speeches won't stop Saren from finding the Conduit. If we really want to make the captain proud, we better get this bird in the air."

"Yes ma'am!"

\/\/\/

Marshal smirked. "I've got to hand it to her, that was quite the rousing speech. Got some real oomph to it, that one."

"You're very quick to turn something serious into a joke," Kaidan said calmly. "If I were you, I'd watch my back. No one here's gonna watch it for you." And with that, he walked off.

_Watch my back? I've been doing that from Day 1. If you want to be hostile, that suits me just fine, Mr. Alenko. I'm not here to make friends. And as for trust, Commander Shepard by herself is more than enough for the present time._

Marshal walked through the door to the med bay, and was greeted by Dr. Chakwas. Unlike with Kaidan, she seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

"Why, hello there," said Dr. Chakwas, "You're Marshal, I presume?"

"Yes ma'am, that would be me," replied Marshal.

She beckoned him from across the room. "Alright, let's see what the damage is."

As Marshal strode toward the table, he said, "Just let you know, I'm only doing this because Shepard wants me to, not because it's necessary."

"The Commander has informed me of your stance on the matter," she said rather dismissively. "Could you take that armor off? It's hard to know what I'm dealing with when I can't see anything."

"Okay, gimme a minute. Mind if I use the other room to change?"

"Go right ahead."

After a few minutes, Marshal had stripped down to his shorts and emerged from the back room.

"Come on over and let me have a look at you."

Marshal acquiesced, and sat down. Dr. Chakwas did a once over with the scanner, and as the scan progressed, her eyes widened more and more. By the time the scan was done, her facial expression was such that it wouldn't have looked out of place in a cartoon.

"All indications are that the wounds you have should be affecting you far worse than they actually are, to the point of crippling you even," breathed Dr. Chakwas. "However…"

"However?"

"Your body has already healed the majority of the damage, no doubt due to your…unique physiology."

Marshal glanced at the doctor, amused. "Go ahead and say it, doctor. I'm a freak."

"Just what all have you done to yourself, exactly?" Chakwas inquired.

"What haven't I done?" Marshal laughed. "There's the krogan cells for regen, drell muscle, vorcha cell clusters in my lungs, augmented senses and reflexes, and let's not forget the very large number of tubes connected to my arteries for injecting the various chemical cocktails that I've devised over the years."

"And the thing is," said Marshal, "All that's just the tip of the iceberg. I've done far more outlandish things. Take this for example."

Marshal pinched at a patch of skin on his neck, and began to pull.

"See that?" asked Marshal, pointing to the patch of skin with his other hand.

Dr. Chakwas gasped. "That can't be what I think it is…"

"Gills."

Dr. Chakwas shook her head, astounded at the temerity of this man, if he could even be called that. "Do you even know how many interstellar laws and treaties you've broken?"

"Far too many to keep track of," answered Marshal.

"There's a REASON genetic modification on this level is illegal!" yelled Chakwas.

"Yes, but I'm not exactly planning on procreating anytime soon," Marshal replied, "As a matter of fact, I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Excuse me?!" said Chakwas, her voice cracking.

"Well, if you need me to spell it out for you…"

"No! I understand perfectly well!" Chakwas raged, "What you've done is immoral, unethical, depraved, and I for one think you deserve much more than a defective-"

"Watch your tongue!" Marshal snapped, slamming his fist into the table.

"If you think I don't understand the magnitude of what I've done to myself, you're greatly mistaken," Marshal fumed, "All joking aside, it's not something I take lightly at all. Every single day I have to bear the consequences of my actions, live with side effects far, far worse than simple impotence. But I've done what I've done for a purpose, a purpose that means absolutely everything to me. To assume that your moral concerns have any merit in this situation is an insult to everything I've worked so hard to build! So don't you fucking judge me. Don't you DARE judge me."

Chakwas stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, unsure of how to respond. After another moment, she made up her mind, and slapped Marshal with as much force as she could muster. Her nails raked across Marshal's cheek as she did so, leaving a fairly deep gash. Additionally, the impact actually knocked him to the ground, where he laid there, shocked into silence.

"You're insane," stated Dr. Chakwas, her hand throbbing. "That being said, I'm willing to look past all this and put it behind me. I apologize for my outburst, as it was highly unbecoming someone of my craft. As a practitioner of medicine, I have sworn the Hippocratic oath, and I will do all I can to help you. So if you would, get up on the table, and let me have a look at that cut."

Marshal obeyed, quietly mumbling "Yes, ma'am" on his way up.

"Hold still. This may sting a little."

Marshal clenched his jaw as Dr. Chakwas went to work.

"This is pretty deep. Still, I'm surprised it isn't healing up naturally at all," Chakwas commented, as if nothing had just happened.

Marshal was more than a little confused, and very unsure of if he should reply, or if he even wanted to. Nevertheless, he muttered, "….Why should it be healing? It's barely been a minute."

"You said you had krogan cells. Krogan regeneration is fairly quick."

"But I'm not actually krogan."

"I don't know. The way you've been acting, you might be."

"…."

"Did you use anything to speed up the healing process with your previous wounds?"

"Yes. LF-D-51, a synthetic mixture developed early during my tenure at Jormungund. Highly volatile. I don't really like to use it, except in emergencies."

"Where do you keep it?"

"I've outfitted my suit with injection mechanisms. They're small, but pretty much everywhere on it. You can find that particular mixture along the spine, fourth one from the top down."

"Do you mind if I analyze it?"

"Feel free. It was a scrapped project anyway, and no corporation would touch it now."

"What exactly was the aim of the project?"

"A cure for Kepral's Syndrome."

Surprised, Dr. Chakwas stopped dabbing for a second. "The drell disease?"

"Yes, ma'am. LF-D-51 didn't turn out even remotely close to what it was supposed to be, so I had to call it off to appease the investors. But it showed promise in other areas, so I had a small R&D team continue working on it, off the books."

"And the result?"

"It accelerates cell regrowth on an extreme level, to the point that it can even heal fatal injuries in a short span of time. Essentially, it is a cure for all ills while active. But naturally, the cost is even more extreme."

"What exactly would the cost be?"

"LF-D-51 doesn't have any real power on it's own. To be perfectly honest, it's more like a parasite than anything else. In order to do anything, it needs energy, which it gains by feeding off the body itself. It can heal practically anything, but the damage eventually turns up somewhere else, twice as bad as before."

"The way you describe it, it doesn't sound viable at all."

"It's only viable for me, and there's tremendous risk involved. Last time I used it, I lost the ability to break down and digest food or even consume liquids conventionally. Colon, small intestine, stomach, bowels, all gone. I eventually had to craft and install a device where my stomach used to be, to help me regurgitate anything that might go down my throat by accident. Point being, it's mighty handy in a pinch, but dangerous as hell. I recently developed a new serum to help mitigate the negative effects, but I have no idea if it actually works."

"Sounds nasty. I take it you already used this new serum?"

"Indeed. Only time will tell if it'll do anything."

"Are there any other ailments I need to know about?"

"Does anxiety count?"

"No. No, it does not."

"Then, nothing right now, no."

Dr. Chakwas sighed. "Very well, then, that'll be all. Keep that cut bandaged and treated with ointment, and you''l be fine."

"That's it?" inquired Marshal.

"That's it," she answered.

"Um, well, uh," Marshal stammered. "I can't very well leave without saying I'm sorr-"

Dr. Chakwas held up a hand, not even looking at Marshal. "Save your apology for something that actually matters. Unbelievable as this may sound, you are NOT the first difficult patient I've ever had, and you sure won't be the last."

_She… actually let it go? No grudge holding? No last minute stinger? Wow. Dr. Chakwas, you are unquestionably the strangest woman I've ever met. And a grade A human being if there ever was one._

"Marshal?"

Jerked away from his thoughts, Marshal recovered quite terribly, as encapsulated in his response.

"Huh?"

"I was just wondering…"

"…Yes?"

"All of those gene mods, I bet that they're aren't compatible with each other in the least. It seems like a disaster waiting to happen, actually. So, how exactly are you even alive?"

_How am I alive? Now that's the million dollar question, ain't it?_


End file.
